


Recurring Nightmares

by darkestbliss



Category: Muse
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dream Sex, M/M, Non linear plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkestbliss/pseuds/darkestbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dominic and Matthew are lovers who find themselves in a dream world. (Based off Inception)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recurring Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Italics indicate flashbacks.

"Mr. Bellamy, do you dream?" asks the therapist. Tap tap goes her pencil against the clipboard she holds in her left hand, her right leg crossed over her left, fake leather boot hanging in the air.  
  
Matthew shrugs and remains silent, just like always.  The therapist sighs and uncrosses her leg then recrosses it just moments later. Matthew doesn't get that. She looks at him with expectant eyes and he does nothing. He remains quiet, and looks behind her head, out the window at the city below.  
  
"Your husband, Dominic, tells me you dream."  
  
"He's not my husband," the brunette mumbles.  
  
The therapist leans back in surprise at Matthew's voice. She never expected she'd actually hear him speak. "Okay then, who is he?"  
  
Matthew looks down at his toes and it seems as if he will be silent again. He picks at the skin around his nail, tearing it and leaving the opportunity for drops of blood to gather there. Then he speaks again. "He's a projection," he tells the therapist.  
  
She nods slowly, now beginning to piece together what Dominic had said to her with what Matthew was saying now.

 

_"He's obsessed," Dominic says to the therapist.  "Obsessed with an idea, that this world we live in isn't real."_  
  
 _"And do you know how this happened?" she asks the blonde._  
  
 _He swallows thickly, rubbing his sweaty palms on the legs of his trousers. He wills himself to remain calm. "It's hard to explain," he says slowly._  
  
 _She raises an eyebrow. "I'm here to listen."_

"What about your children, Matthew? What about them?"  
  
"They're not real either."  
  
"Are they..." The therapist pauses, trying to remember the word Matthew used. "Are they projections too? Like Dominic?"  
  
The small brunette looks at her with sharp blue eyes. "Yes," he says.  
  
She nods, writing something down on her pad of paper, crossing her legs again. Matthew flinches as her boots click together, making an irritating click sound.  
  
"Anything else you want to say before we're done here today?" the therapist asks.  
  
Matthews shakes his head, disappearing back into silence.  
  
"Okay, well I'll see you tomorrow then."  
  
Matthew nods simply, and nearly runs for the door. Dominic is waiting for him in the other room, a look of exhaustion evident in his grey eyes. He opens his arms up for Matthew, but is ignored by the brunette. He flinches at this, and waves at the therapist with a sad goodbye, knowing that tomorrow would bring yet another unsuccessful session.

 

 

_"Get your bloody hands off of me!"_  
  
 _"Matthew, love, please just listen," pleads the blonde, tears streaming freely from his eyes as he tries to coax the brunette back into their bed._  
  
 _"You're not my Dominic!" screams Matthew._  
  
 _"Matthew this is not a dream! Look at me!"_  
  
 _He refuses to meet Dominic's glance, moving to the armchair in their bedroom. He picks up a quilt and drapes it over himself as he sits down._  
  
 _"Matthew, sweetheart, going to sleep won't make this any better."_  
  
 _"But I'm already asleep!" yells the blue eyed brunette, his lungs burning as he screams as loud as he can._  
  
 _There's a light tapping outside their closed bedroom door, a sniffle and then a sob. Dominic groans, taking one last sad look at Matthew curled up on the chair before walking into the hall to calm their crying children._  
  
 _"What's wrong with Daddy?" asks Julia with tears in her big blue eyes, so similar to her father's._  
  
 _Dominic looks from Julia to Theodore, their two beautiful children, and begins to cry at the sorrowful looks they give him. He pulls his son and daughter into his arms, holding them close to his chest and rocking them back and forth._  
  
 _"Daddy is sick. I'm going to get him help though," Dominic says. He would call a therapist that night. This had gone on far too long._  
  
 _"Why doesn't he hug us anymore?" Theodore questions. "Does he not love us anymore?" His voice breaks Dominic's heart._  
  
 _The blonde shakes his head sadly. "It's something I did. I'm so sorry, Theodore."_

"You're waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away," Matthew whispers quietly to himself.  
  
Dominic watches his husband, sitting at their kitchen table. He was slicing an apple earlier, but had long since abandoned the ripe red fruit and was now running his finger along the blade of the knife.  
  
Dom is scared to approach him suddenly from behind, unsure of what the brunette might do if he was spooked in his current mental state.  
  
"Love," he calls softly to his husband. "Matthew?"  
  
Matthew ignores him, continuing to run his finger along the sharp edge, just barely slicing his skin open. He watches as a small stream of blood trickles down and stains the white tiled floors of their home.  
  
The knife is taken from his hand and he looks into big grey eyes with unmeasurable anger.  
  
"You're hurting yourself," Dominic says sadly.  
  
"I'm asleep."  
  
"Matthew," he begins sternly. "You're awake. It's me, Dominic, the man you married."  
  
"NO!" screams Matthew, slamming the knife down on the table and startling his lover. "You're just a projection! This is a dream!"  
  
"Then explain this!" says Dominic, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small piece of metal, a top, a token, and places it on the table in front of them both. He uses his left hand to spin the top, watching it rotate around on the wooden tabletop. A few short seconds later, it falls, making a loud clatter as it to ricochets across the wood and onto the floor.  
  
"It's because it's my dream!" Matthew screams, throwing his head into his hands and sobbing violently.  
  
Dominic collapses to the floor in a heap of tears as his husband breaks down right before his eyes. All because of him.

 

_"How far do you think we can go?" Matthew asks with a big smile spread across his face._  
  
 _"A dream within a dream within a dream," Dominic says, his smile matching his husband's. "We can build our own city. We can grow old together. We'll build a new reality, our own, one where we can push the limits of physics, achieve the impossible."_  
  
 _They're laying on a white sandy beach currently, an island they themselves had created. No other occupants are there, and they lay kisses to each other's naked bodies as their pale English skin willingly soaks up the sun's rays._  
  
 _"I love you so much Dominic," Matthew moans, letting his tongue enter his lover's mouth as he begins to slowly rock his hips into him against the warm sand, feeling paradise wrap around their bare bodies._  
  
 _As they silently make love to the sounds of crashing waves, as Matthew pleasures his husband to a point he would never be able to achieve by himself, Dominic begins to think of where they can take this, how they would be able to go further and further into the world of the dream._  
  
 _~_  
  
 _"I think we should go home," Dominic suggests._  
  
 _Matthew looks up at him, his wrinkled skin sagging slightly beneath his still brightly lit blue eyes. "Do you think it's time?" he asks, running a hand through his pepper colored hair._  
  
 _Dominic nods. "This is only a dream. We've made it our reality, but I miss our children. I miss Julia and Theodore."_  
  
 _"Do you think they miss us too?" Matthew asks. He's looking at the doorway separating their living room where they're both sat from the play room they'd built, the projections of an eight year old boy and a six year old girl playing with a tub of colorful blocks. While he and Dominic grew old, the projections of their children did not._  
  
 _"We've only been asleep for a night."_  
  
 _"Feels like our whole lives," Matthew says softly._  
  
 _"It's because we've made this our reality. But I think we should go home now," says Dominic. "It's for the best."_  
  
 _"Okay," replies Matthew to his husband. "I trust you."_  
  
 _~_  
  
 _"This is the only way." There is a softness to the blonde's words. "You're waiting for a train," Dominic whispers into his partner's ear. Matthew shivers against the words, against the brisk and chill wind that ruffles their clothing as they lay side by side, tied to a railroad, a few hundred meters from the city that rose up from the barren land. The barren land that they'd made their home. "A train that will take you far away."_  
  
 _"I'm waiting for a train," the brunette repeats softly. "A train that will take me far away."_  
  
 _A light appears on the horizon, and Dominic grasps his husband's hand. The blare of a train horn echoes as the light moves closer and closer._  
  
 _"The only way," Dominic repeats again, shifting closer to his lover, at least as much as the ties would allow. He was holding Matthew close to him. "Our children, we're going to see our children."_  
  
 _Matthew smiles._  
  
 _"I love you," whispers the blonde. The light is closer, the blare is louder. A dark object at the base of the light is more visible to Dominic, appearing behind the head of dark brown hair of his husband._  
  
 _"What if we don't wake up?" says Matthew suddenly, but it's too late for his partner to reply or even register his words, because the train has come, and they are both jolted from their synthetic and imagined reality._

 

There's something that isn't right. Matthew has begun to return to his normal self. He no longer believes Dominic is a projection, though the same can't be said about Julia and Theodore. It seems the therapy is helping, and Dominic is glad. But as he takes the lift up to the eleventh floor of the Grande Hotel with a bottle of wine and bouquet of roses in hand, tuxedo fit snugly to his figure, something feels off.  
  
He unlocks the door of their suite, and is immediately hit with a blast of cold wind. The temperature of the air floating in through the open windows of the room is the temperature that could only accompany the freezing weather of January, the month of their anniversary. It was ten years ago to this day that they said their vows to each other.  
  
"Matthew, love?" he calls out. He glances around the room as he steps in, eyeing ripped curtains, toppled over tables and chairs, and broken glass. He sees Matthew's suitcase on top of the king sized bed, and quickly places his own next to it.  
  
Dominic continues to walk across the room, calling out to his husband.  
  
"Sweetheart, where are you?" the blonde asks worriedly. Just then, he steps on a wine glass. The crack echoes through the room, just as Dominic walks past one of the wide windows of their suite, the one directly across from a balcony on the opposite side of the street, where he spots someone.  
  
A pale brunette is sat on the edge of the balcony across the street, thin legs floating in air with no ground beneath them. His tuxedo jacket is placed next to him, his shirt unbuttoned and blowing in the wind, exposing his skinny, pale white torso. The wind is blowing his brown hair across his face, and despite the darkness of the night, his blue eyes are lit up like sapphires.  
  
“Matthew sweetheart, what are you doing?” Dominic asks nervously. “Come down love, come down and let’s talk.”  
  
The brunette shakes his head. “Come out onto the ledge.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dominic replies.  
  
“Come out or I’ll jump right now,” says Matthew sternly.  
  
Dominic takes a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm as he carefully exits out the window. He stands carefully on the ledge of the building, and steals a glance looking down. His vision goes blurry as he notices the drop and just how high up their anniversary suite is. He sits, and looks forward. Matthew is about fifteen feet across from him. It’s far enough that he can’t reach out to catch him.  
  
“Jump with me.”  
  
“Matthew,” Dominic whispers between tears. “Please, baby, come inside.”  
  
The brunette’s ankle dips down, and his shiny black dress shoe is slipped off and plummets to the ground, eleven stories below them. Dominic gasps, and is now reduced to full on sobs.  
  
“Think about the children! Theodore and Julia! You can’t leave them.”  
  
“We’re going to our real children now,” Matthew tells him. “This is just a dream.”  
  
“Goddammit Matthew! Come inside.”  
  
“You’re waiting for a train,” he whispers.  
  
“Fucking hell, Matthew James! Listen to me!” Dominic is standing up now and his tears won’t stop running. “Don’t do this to me, this is not a dream!”  
  
“A train that will take you far away.” The brunette inches forward, and his husband can only watch from afar as each inch becomes closer and closer to death. And then he’s gone.  
  
“Jesus Christ!” Dominic wails, watching as his lover jumps from the balcony, his tiny body falling down to the ground. He lets out a heart wrenching sob at the sound of a body hitting pavement. His lover, husband, a father of two beautiful children, has fallen down, down to a dream which he will never wake up from.

 

 

 


End file.
